


I just wanted to show you I could do it

by silvermoongirl10



Series: Exists in a delicate balance [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Big Brother Feemor, Disaster Lineage (Star Wars), Gen, Illnesses, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan has the flu, Obi-Wan is turning Qui-Gon's hair grey, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvermoongirl10/pseuds/silvermoongirl10
Summary: Junior Padawan Obi-Wan is about to compete in the Senior Padawan Lightsaber tournament. However, he knows he has the flu and his Master knows something is wrong. So, what does Obi-Wan do? He draws on the Force for strength and competes anyway. He doesn't want to let anyone down, including himself. So he decides he has to compete. Everything will be fine. It will.(Set when Obi-Wan is a Padawan aged 17.)
Relationships: Dooku & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Feemor & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Exists in a delicate balance [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978357
Comments: 12
Kudos: 117





	I just wanted to show you I could do it

The Temple was alight with excitement, today was the day of the Senior Padawan Lightsaber tournament. The week before, after returning to the Temple after a tiring mission with Master Qui-Gon to a monsoon planet, seventeen-year-old Obi-Wan had been informed by Battle Master Cin Drallig that he was entering Obi-Wan into the Senior Padawan competition. Despite Obi-Wan officially being a Junior Padawan, the promotion in rank coming when a Padawan was aged eighteen, he had shown great skill in his lightsaber forms and so Master Drallig felt it was time to test Obi-Wan's skills. When Obi-Wan had shared the news, Master Qui-Gon and Master Dooku had looked on proudly, their pride shinning in the Force. Whereas Feemor, Quinlan, Bant, Reeft and Garen had all been much louder with their praise.

So, Obi-Wan expected to wake up on the day of the tournament brimming with excitement. However, as soon as he opened his eyes he just wanted to go back to sleep, despite getting a full night's sleep. His limbs were aching and felt heavy and to top it off he was sure he had a fever. He just barely refrained from screaming in frustration into his pillow. It was a huge honour for a Battle Master to enter a Junior Padawan into the Senior Padawan competition, and Obi-Wan hadn't wanted to let Master Drallig down. As Obi-Wan stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, he considered his options. If he told his Master, he would not compete because his Master would make him rest. But if he supplemented his energy with the Force for the tournament and then went to see the Healers, he would be able to compete and would still be treated for what he was fairly certain was the flu. He gritted his teeth and then dragged himself out of bed and into his fresher. Determined to prove Master Drallig's faith was not misplaced and a mere flu was not going to stop him.

He took his time getting ready not wanting to tire himself out before he even got to the main training salle where the tournament was taking place. After he brushed his teeth, he closed his eyes and let the Force flow through him, he felt himself stand straighter as more energy flooded his limbs. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled, he didn't even look ill and so he was sure he would be fine. Nothing was going to stop him.

Walking from his bedroom to the main area of the quarters, Obi-Wan smiled when he noticed his Master had laid the table with breakfast and tea. Once he took a seat, he lifted the cup to his nose and took in a deep breath. Ah, the good tea. He smirked remembering how Qui-Gon kept having to find a new place to hide his good stash of tea due to Obi-Wan and Feemor finding said stash. He looked up as he took a sip and smiled when he observed his Master rolling his midnight eyes. "Yes, I deemed today, a day special enough for you to have some of the good tea," commented Qui-Gon.

"And I thank you deeply for it Master," he teased. Pretending that Feemor and he hadn't already raided their Master's tea stash the night before in celebration. As he placed his cup back on the table his hand shook a little, causing a small drop of tea to fall onto the table. He hastily wiped it up and closed his eyes again to regain the control he had before. Obi-Wan reopened his eyes to find his Master frowning at him in concern.

"Obi-Wan are you feeling alright?" asked Master Qui-Gon, as he reached out a hand over the table so he could rest it against Obi-Wan's forehead.

Obi-Wan tilted his head away under the guise of eating his toast. "Perfectly alright Master. Just a little nervous," he responded lightly. Inwardly cursing himself, how was he supposed to successfully compete if he couldn't even get out of his own quarters?

"If you are sure," stated Qui-Gon slowly, a furrow between his eyebrows. _Sithspit_ cursed Obi-Wan, _he knows something is up_. So, he quickly began eating his toast and drinking his tea, taking care not to do it _too_ fast otherwise his Master would definitely know something was up. Every time he swallowed a bite of toast, he had to stop himself from wincing as the sharp crumbs aggravated his sore throat. At least the good tea was soothing his throat.

Eventually breakfast was eaten and both Master and Padawan left their quarters for the day. On their way to the training salle, Obi-Wan found himself accosted by his brother-Padawan. Feemor practically leapt onto his back and was excitedly proclaiming how proud he was of his little brother.

"Feemor!" protested Obi-Wan with a glare, as he tried to tidy his hair by running a hand through it. His brother grinned not sorry for messing up Obi-Wan's hair. "Could you stop being an embarrassing brother _for one second_."

Feemor dramatically gasped and pressed a hand against his own forehead. "Oh my! My little brother has all grown up and no longer loves me for who I am!"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and tsked as he walked around his older brother, who at this point was now kneeling on the floor, begging for his little brother to be returned to him. "How you can function on undercover missions is beyond me," he teased with another roll of his eyes. As he walked down the corridor, he chuckled to himself as he could still hear Feemor bemoaning the loss of his sweet little brother to their Master. Who was clearly trying to get Feemor to stop his dramatics so they could "get to the tournament _on time_ Feemor."

He smiled when he spotted Quinlan and stopped so his friend could catch up to him. "Is that Feemor I can hear crying?" Quinlan asked with a smirk on his face.

"Yes," sighed Obi-Wan. And it was true, he was half a corridor away from his brother and _he could still hear him_. "Apparently I am 'lost to him' and he 'wants his little brother back'. Or something like that."

Quinlan laughed and looked back over his shoulder at the sudden silence. "Well, if you don't want him trying anything else embarrassing, you'd best get inside before he accosts you again." Obi-Wan nodded and laughed in agreement, together they walked into the training salle. Obi-Wan took in the big crowd that was filling the seats around the edge of the room. Match squares had been lined out on the wooden floor and Master Drallig was assigning his Temple Security team to match squares so they could officiate the matches. Bant, Garen and Reeft came to wish him good luck, as he was the first of their group to compete in the Senior tournament. He had watched his friends compete in the Junior tournament the week before, where Quinlan achieved first place with Garen coming in a close second. After parting good luck wishes, his friends left his side and went to find their seats. He then stepped towards the signing in desk, where Master Drallig's Assistant Battle Master Cyrnic Wrigar was sitting. Obi-Wan approached the female Jedi Master with a shy smile. Both Masters Drallig and Wrigar were excellent teachers, but they could be very intimidating, whether facing them on the training mats or just in the corridors of the Temple.

"I'm here to sign in Master Wrigar," he said softly. Not even sure if his voice carried over the noise of the room.

"Ah yes Obi-Wan! Here is your schedule of your duels and good luck Padawan! May the Force be with you!" smiled Master Wrigar, her hazel eyes alight with the excitement of a tournament. At the sight of the usually stern Master smiling Obi-Wan nearly fainted, feeling ill or not. Master Wrigar smiling was _not_ a common sight. He stuttered a polite thank you and moved away from the signing in desk. In his utter disbelief he did not notice three figures standing in front of him, until he was stopped mid-step by two hands on his shoulders.

He looked up and met the concerned gazes of Master Jasal, his old Creche Master, Master Dooku and Master Qui-Gon. "Are you feeling alright Obi-Wan?" asked Master Jasal as he squeezed his old, withered hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders.

"Master Wrigar smiled at me," he responded in disbelief. He looked up hearing his Master snort in amusement and glared at his Master. _A Master is supposed to be supportive_ , he chided down his training bond to his Master. To his annoyance Master Qui-Gon did not look apologetic, he just grinned in response.

"A terrifying sight indeed," smiled Master Dooku, his tone not sounding sympathetic _at all_.

Obi-Wan huffed at the betrayal of his Master and Grandmaster, instead leaning into Master Jasal's hold. Recalling the old arms comforting him when he had been ill before as a youngling in the Creche. His eyes slipped closed on their own accord when Master Jasal ran a hand through his copper hair. Realising the danger of that action, he snapped his eyes open and just smiled at his old Creche Master, whose height he now equalled. "Are you sure you are alright little spark?" asked Master Jasal, his emerald eyes shinning with concern.

"I am Master Jasal! I'm just relieved Master Qui-Gon has successfully ditched Feemor," he replied with a smile. Master Jasal just rolled his eyes with a fond smile, while Master Dooku muttered something about dramatic Grandpadawans.

"You should thank Master Yoda. He's the expert at Padawan wrangling," stated Qui-Gon with a wry smile.

"I'll make sure to do that after the tournament," replied Obi-Wan. He then waved his schedule in front of the three Masters. "I had better go and get ready."

"Good luck little spark," smiled Master Jasal. He then turned hearing a commotion and sighed when he spotted Garen and Quinlan. "Well, I know where I'm sitting then." He then moved away and sure enough sat himself down behind Garen and Quinlan with a disparaging look to the ceiling, as if he was asking the Force for strength.

"What ever the result is Grandpadawan, it is an impressive feat for you to have been entered. You have already made us proud," added Master Dooku with his own smile. He then nodded at Obi-Wan and went over to the empty seat beside Yoda, who indeed had Feemor under control in the other seat next to him.

Obi-Wan then turned to smile at his Master, who he noticed was watching him with a thoughtful look again. "Are you using the Force Padawan?" asked Qui-Gon. _Force damnit_ , thought Obi-Wan, _how does he notice_ _ **everything**_ _?_

"Just to help keep my nerves at bay Master," he replied easily. "I know Master Dooku is right, but I'm still feeling nervous." Well, it wasn't a lie.

Qui-Gon nodded and smiled, "May the Force be with you Padawan and good luck." His Master then turned and walked towards where the other members of their lineage were sitting. Obi-Wan smiled to himself and then turned towards the changing rooms, where he hung up his brown outer robe, checked his control of the Force and then walked back out to the salle so he could warm up before his first match.

He was fine. It was fine. Everything was fine.

* * *

Everything was not fine.

Obi-Wan noticed his limbs grew heavier and sweat was gathering on his forehead. He'd had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from sharply retorting when someone asked him 'if he was alright'. His patience was wearing thin and at this point he wouldn't have minded if he lost a match, at least then everything would be over. But no, despite how ill he was beginning to feel, he kept winning his matches. Surprising himself and his older opponents. Who were obviously very confused as to how they lost against a clearly ill Junior Padawan? Obi-Wan bowed to his most recent competitor a Kiffar, who looked at him with concern and opened her mouth, to what Obi-Wan _knew_ was going to be a variation of 'are you alright?' So, he just nodded and plastered a smile onto his face and walked towards the match square where the final was taking place. Because of course in his haze, he got to the final, where _everyone_ was going to be watching him and his Master was going to _know_ he had _lied to his face_.

He reached the match square and was dismayed to find his opponent already there, so no break for him then. The girl looked at him in concern and Obi-Wan just _barely_ refrained from cursing out loud. This was his punishment he knew it, the Force hadn't liked he'd competed ill, so it was making him feel the consequences of his decision, there was no other _possible_ reason for him to be in the Senior Padawan final.

He sent a short wave towards the stands where he heard his friends calling his name loudly. He was also sure he'd heard Garen and Quinlan shout "yes! That's _our_ friend!" He rolled his eyes, at least his friends were not as embarrassing as Feemor. Speaking of his brother, he cast his gaze over to where his lineage was sitting, expecting to find Feemor being his usually embarrassing self. Only to discover, Feemor, Master Yoda, Master Dooku and Master Qui-Gon all frowning in his direction. _Oh, for_ _ **Force sake**_ , thought Obi-Wan. Well, his lineage clearly knew he had lied to their faces. Utter joy.

Suddenly his attention was drawn back to the match square when Master Drallig declared the start of the match. The girl immediately went on the offensive, her green lightsaber blade a blur which gave Obi-Wan a headache. If anyone asked him how long the match went on for or what happened, he honestly couldn't tell them anything. One second the match had started and the next there was a green blade to his throat. He bowed to his opponent and congratulated her on her victory. He just about kept standing on shaky legs when he was presented his second-place ribbon by Master Drallig and remembered to thank the Battle Master for both the ribbon and the opportunity of fighting in the tournament.

Eventually he escaped to the changing rooms, intending on collecting his outer robe and taking himself to the Healers because he knew he was really ill now. The fever was back with a vengeance, his arms and legs were shaking so much he could barely stand and sweat was just running off his forehead. When he reached the hook, he had placed his robe on, he leaned against the wall, sighing in relief when his hot forehead came into contact with the cold tile wall. But then he began sliding down the wall and he could do nothing to stop it, even when he heard his Master entering the changing rooms. "Obi-Wan!" his Master called out in alarm, but at this point all Obi-Wan could do was crumple in a heap on the cold, tile floor. Moaning in relief when his weight was _finally_ taken off his shaking legs.

"M'str," he slurred as he blinked his bleary eyes open and closed. Wordlessly Master Qui-Gon reached down and effortlessly lifted him up, Obi-Wan made to grab his robe not wanting to leave it behind, when instead he dropped his blue ribbon. He groaned in protest as his Master began to carry him away from his belongings.

"I've got them," came the soft voice of his brother. Obi-Wan peaked his head over his Master's shoulder as he was carried out of the changing room and watched as Feemor picked up his ribbon and collected his robe. Once his Master stepped into the main salle, Obi-Wan was relieved to notice the salle was nearly empty, causing him to wonder how long he had been in the changing room for. But then as his Master turned for the main door, the lights of the salle where directly in his eyeline and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. Causing his headache to return with a vengeance and a whimper from himself.

His Master rumbled soothing words to him and Obi-Wan tucked his face into the crook of his Master's neck, ignoring the brush of his Master's beard against his forehead. He jumped at the sound of approaching footsteps, but did not have the energy to open his eyes and see who it was. The person's voice soon answered that question anyway.

"Ah I thought he was hiding having the flu," stated Master Jasal in a calm voice. A hand rested on his head, "poor boy, he never did like being ill."

"If he had been honest this morning it wouldn't have gotten this bad," replied his Master in a firm voice. Despite his position in his Master's arms, Obi-Wan still curled into himself and whined from the back of his throat at the disappointed tone of his Master.

"Qui-Gon, the boy is already miserable. Do not torment him further," ordered Master Dooku. Obi-Wan felt his Master stop walking and felt his legs sway as his Master turned to face Master Dooku. _I hope they don't have an argument right now_ , he thought to himself. He braised himself when he felt and heard his Master suck in a sharp breath. When a soft, but firm, voice came to his rescue.

"Master, if you are going to argue with Master Dooku, you can at the very least give Obi-Wan to me so I can take him to the Healers and get him the help he needs," stated Feemor. There was a pause, and then suddenly Obi-Wan felt himself jerk as his Master started to march out of the Halls, forgoing the chance to argue with his Master.

The journey to the Halls of Healing was made in silence. On the one hand, Obi-Wan was grateful due to his headache. On the other hand, however, it set him on edge. His Master only remained silent when he was _very_ disappointed in him. Once they reached the Halls, Obi-Wan listened with detachment as his Master explained the situation and carried him into an examination room. He was gently placed onto a medical bed and immediately curled himself into a ball. Healer Corra, the twi'lek Healer who had treated him his entire life was talking to him, but he couldn't understand a word she was saying. He felt her try and straighten his body out, but he groaned in protest and pressed his face into the sheets of the medical bed.

"Alright Obi-Wan, I won't move you," she soothed in her soft voice. He felt her give him a hypo spray and just as he was drifting towards blessed unconsciousness, he heard her say to his Master he would be able to return to their quarters soon.

* * *

Over the next few hours, he drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness. He heard Master Yoda, Master Windu, Feemor, Master Jasal and Master Dooku all talking to him, but not a word from his Master. He knew his Master was there, he felt him nearby in the Force. But still his Master did not say a word. Obi-Wan's stomach churned at the thought of his Master's disappointment, and he wanted to apologise, but his mouth was dry and nothing but moans and groans emitted from his mouth.

In one of his moments of consciousness, he heard Healer Corra say he could go home as along as he rested there. He heard his Master promise nothing but rest and the next thing he knew he was being lifted up into his Master's arms again. It felt like he had no control of his body and so his head just hung limply over his Master's arm. Hastily he felt his Master tilt his head towards his Master's neck, so his head and neck would not be in an uncomfortable position.

Obi-Wan had a moment of dread, thinking he was going to be seen carried through the Temple like a youngling. But when his Master stepped out of the Halls, there was silence. So, Obi-Wan half opened his eyes and observed the night sky through the windows of the Temple corridors. He managed to pull his eyes fully open and watched the stars pass as his Master walked through the Temple. His footsteps echoing quietly in the empty corridors. He slowly pulled his gaze upwards and was met with his Master already looking at him with his midnight eyes. Obi-Wan wanted to shy away, but knew he had nowhere to go, so he kept looking up at his Master. Just waiting for the inevitable words of disappointment.

His feelings must have seeped through their bond, because his Master sighed and then said, "why did you do it Obi-Wan?"

"Because I didn't want to disappoint Master Drallig," he replied hoarsely.

Master Qui-Gon just shook his head with another sigh. "You can't help being ill Padawan. No one would have been disappointed if you didn't fight."

"I would have," Obi-Wan softly admitted, his fingers playing with the edge of his Master's robe.

"And why would that have been Padawan mine?"

Obi-Wan swallowed. "Because I still hear whispers of other Padawans saying I'm not good enough and I just wanted to show them…you…I just wanted to show I could do it." He closed his eyes and braised himself for the stern words his Master was undoubtedly going to chastise him with.

But his Master said nothing, and then Obi-Wan sensed them entering their quarters. Within moments he was placed gently on his bed and immediately wrapped in a blanket. He opened his eyes and looked down to find the multi-coloured monstrosity Master Qui-Gon bought for his recovery when he broke his leg five years ago. "Padawan. Look at me Ben," said Master Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan looked up at his Master and found worried midnight blue eyes staring back at him. His Master was sat on the edge of his bed and reached out a hand to push back his sweat, clumped fringe from his forehead. "I know you struggle to ignore the whispers of others who doubt you. But _believe_ me Padawan mine, you could _never_ disappoint me. I am incredibly proud of you," Master Qui-Gon then frowned slightly. "A part from when you give me grey hair worrying about you, like _today_."

Obi-Wan sniggered at the grey hair comment, it was one he and Feemor had listened to countless times. And would probably hear for the rest of their lives. Obi-Wan then sobered and nodded at his Master. "I won't do something like this again Master, I promise."

"Good," nodded Master Qui-Gon. He then began tucking Obi-Wan into bed and carded his hand through his copper hair causing Obi-Wan's eyes to droop. "Don't fight it Padawan, you need to rest." Obi-Wan just nodded slowly and let his head sink into his pillow, comforted by his Master's presence.

**Author's Note:**

> Cody twenty years in the future, stumbling on to the tournament footage on the Archives database: So, my idiot Jedi decided to compete when he was clearly ill anyway. 🙄🤦


End file.
